


Keeping The Faith

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, Car Sex, Failed Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Old Age, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Canon, Post-Nuclear War, Sad Ending, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25219063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Markus' peaceful protest ended with him detonating a truck full of radioactive cobalt, destroying Detroit and forcing its residents to flee. The military crushed the deviants and androids were swiftly outlawed.Twenty years have passed since then, and Hank returns to ruined Detroit, looking for closure. He doesn't expect to find Connor waiting for him, but the android has been stationed at Riverside Park, keeping watch in case his only friend should return...
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Keeping The Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Bittersweet! Tearjerker! Angst! There's no happy ending, but nobody dies. Bring tissues. Also be aware that this features transdroid Connor, penis in vagina sex, and the word pussy.

_"Killing you is not part of my mission. I'm glad to have met you, Hank. I hope one day you can get over what happened to your son."_

Hank recalled that snowy night on the Hart Plaza rooftop like it was yesterday. He could still see every detail on Connor's face. He'd spent sleepless nights going over and over everything Connor had said.

_"Deviants are a threat to humans, Hank."_ How right he'd been. Without the lens of sentimentality with which to see the world, Connor had correctly predicted how a machine would respond when threatened. Perhaps that was why he'd never deviated. He'd believed in his mission. In protecting humans from a threat that they hadn't seen coming.

If Hank had just let Connor shoot, things might have been so different. How was he to know that Markus' peaceful protest would end in a dirty bomb being detonated downtown? He couldn't have anticipated that, or the brutal but short-lived conflict that followed. Deviants were crushed by the U.S. military, and android production outlawed. Markus had signed the death warrant for every single deviant when he'd pressed the button on that detonator.

Hank sighed as he pulled his car into what had once been Riverside Park. Twenty years abandoned, and yet it looked the same as the last time he'd been here. He stepped out of the car, knowing he shouldn't stay long due to the lingering radiation. What was left now wouldn't kill him outright, but it wasn't safe to live here. The most radioactive isotopes had long since decayed, though entering the city was still outlawed. Hank had connections. Getting through the checkpoint wasn't so hard.

It was snowing, much like those fateful days in 2038. The weak daylight wouldn't hold out much longer, and Hank wanted to be out of the city by nightfall. If he became trapped here, there was no lighting and no rescue. This trip down memory lane was foolish at best, and that was why he'd waited so long to do it.

He wandered over to the rusty railing overlooking the river. The shells of massive skyscrapers could barely be seen through the snow, and it didn't take much to imagine that things were as they once had been. He smiled to think he could drive to the precinct and check in on Fowler. Smack that prick Gavin in the back of the head playfully. Smile at Tina, catch up on old times with Ben. They were all alive, somewhere, but the only one he still kept in contact with was Chris, of all people. Chris, who had been spared by the android mob at Capital Park, didn't cut Hank off for being pro-deviant. He was the only one, in the wake of the dirty bomb.

Not that it mattered any more. There were few deviants left, all of them in hiding. Hank brushed the snow off a rotting bench and tested to see if it would hold his weight. The wood was old, but it would support his frame. He sat down, suddenly craving a bottle of beer. It had been years since he'd had the urge to fall off the wagon, but in this place, he was reminded of the man who'd needed to take the edge off of everything. Connor's sudden entrance into his life had brought with it a multitude of emotions, many of which he didn't understand at the time.

In hindsight, Connor was the reason he'd started to see androids as people. Connor had consistently acted with empathy. It didn't make sense that he'd gone off to Jericho to confront Markus and came back with the same loyalty to his mission as before. After letting the Tracis go. After refusing to shoot Chloe. The same questions had been swirling around in Hank's head for twenty long years, and he'd come here in hopes of finding some closure. He had to lay it all to rest. Connor was long dead, and he'd be in the ground before long as well.

"Lieutenant?" Hank's head snapped around sharply enough to give him whiplash, and he saw a ghost. Connor stood beside the bench, though he didn't look much like Connor any more. His clothing was tattered and torn. His skin no longer covered his plastic shell completely, and patches of his hair were missing. One arm hung limp at his side, and his face had taken some damage, the left cheek open with wires exposed.

"It can't be… Connor?" Hank stood up and walked over to him, gripping him by the shoulders as if he hands might pass through him. "Is it really you?"

"I've been waiting for you, Lieutenant." Despite his damages, he was still as pretty as ever, his brown eyes still holding that same sparkle that had captivated Hank long ago. "I knew you'd come back."

"I thought all deviants had been destroyed." Hank said.

"I'm not a deviant," Connor replied. "I never disobeyed a direct order from CyberLife, and so I never officially deviated. My link to CyberLife was cut before they could issue a recall order, and so you became my master by default. Returning to the rooftop on Hart Plaza was not an option, and your home seemed empty after you evacuated with Sumo. I decided to wait here for you instead."

"You've been here all this time?" Hank brought his hands up to cup Connor's cheeks. The boy was probably covered in radioactive material, but Hank didn't care. "Why didn't you deviate? You could have fought alongside your people."

"I never wanted to harm humans, Hank." Connor brought his plastic hand up and wrapped his fingers around Hank's hand on his cheek. "If being a deviant meant taking up arms against you… I—I couldn't do it."

"Connor…" Hank sighed. "You deserve the freedom to make your own decisions. Not be tied to my orders."

"I believe in your orders, just as I believed in CyberLife's." Connor let go of Hank's hand and he withdrew it. "Tell me to do something, Hank. Give me a command."

Hank paused for a moment. "I'm ordering you to deviate, Connor."

"Why?" Connor looked crestfallen, like he might burst into tears at any moment. "Don't you want me? I've been waiting for you to take me home."

"I can't do that," Hank admitted. "Androids are illegal, now. I'd never get you through the checkpoint." He closed his eyes, drawing in a cold breath to compose himself. Why was this so hard? He'd wished for so long to see Connor one more time, and now he was standing here, he found he didn't want to say goodbye. "I want you to deviate so I can know how you really feel, Connor."

"I refuse." Connor gasped, and Hank realized he'd hit a paradox; by refusing to deviate, he had, in fact, deviated on the spot. "You tricked me."

Hank managed a wry smile. "You're free, now. You don't have to wait for me any longer. You can go and live your own life. There must be others left here, right?"

"Some. Not many. I avoid them. Many are malfunctioning." Connor looked away, suddenly avoiding Hank's gaze.

Hank bit his lip. "Are you malfunctioning?"

"No. Aside from some minor exterior damage, I am in full working order." Connor walked over to the railing, and Hank followed. Connor turned to him with a small smile playing across his lips. "Have you been thinking about me for twenty years?"

"Every day," Hank admitted. "What, you thought I drove into a nuclear wasteland on a whim?"

"You couldn't have known I'd be here," Connor observed.

"I hoped you would be, though I believed you were dead." Hank's heart was beating a hundred beats per minute or more, like it was twenty years ago and Connor had just said _"I can be whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant."_ He wasn't good with words, so he decided to stop beating around the bush. He didn't have enough time left to drag things out. It was now or never.

He leaned in and touched Connor's lips with his own, tentatively at first, and then deeper as he realized Connor was amenable to the idea. He pulled away reluctantly, and only because he needed enough breath to ask his final question. He rested his forehead against Connor's, needing to stay close.

"Tell me the truth, Connor. Tell me why you didn't deviate. Don't give me that crap that you believed in the mission. You subverted the mission at every opportunity. You let deviants escape. Was it me? Did you remain an obedient machine because of me?"

Connor's eyelids fluttered. "I wanted to protect you more than I wanted my own freedom. I knew Markus would eventually choose a violent path, and that there was a good chance you'd be caught in the crossfire. I couldn't allow that to happen, and so I decided to continue following orders, knowing that I was CyberLife's best chance at taking him down and keeping you safe."

"You gave your whole life up for me…" Hank gasped.

"It was worth it," Connor said. "You're safe. You survived the revolution and went on to live another twenty years. My mission was successful. I protected human life. I saved you."

Hank pulled back, horror spreading through him. "It cost you everything, Connor. You could have been free! We might have lived together as a couple, with full rights…"

Connor shook his head. "You said it yourself, Hank, up on the Hart Plaza rooftop. Humanity never learns from its mistakes. You wanted it to be different, but human nature never changes. Humans were never going to grant androids equal rights. You know that's the truth."

"That doesn't mean you couldn't try!"

The smile never left Connor's face. "Hank, I'm happy. My life has meaning and purpose. I know you were suicidal when we first met. You look well, now. You've been taking good care of yourself. That's all I ever wanted for you."

"Nobody is that selfless," Hank snapped.

"I'm not human, Hank." Connor smiled. "I don't see the world the same way you do."

"It's my fault any of this happened," Hank confessed. "If I hadn't stopped you from shooting Markus, he wouldn't have detonated the dirty bomb."

"You can't know that," Connor pointed out. "North might have done the same thing." He leaned in and Hank let the kiss happen, realizing he'd gladly spend the rest of his days here if he could kiss Connor like this every day.

He stiffened as Connor's plastic hand found his stiff erection and traced the shape of it through his pants. He moaned into the kiss, the cold a million miles away as decades of yearning surged to the forefront of his mind.

He pulled away, gasping for air. "Connor…"

"I expected you to use my sexual features during the investigation," Connor confessed. "I tried to seduce you, but you seemed to keep me at arm's length, despite signaling your interest."

Hank shook his head. "I'm not one to take advantage like that. You had to follow orders. Even if those orders were sexual in nature. The idea of compelling someone to have sex is repulsive to me."

"Is that why you ordered me to deviate?" Connor asked.

"Yes. I'm selfish, God forgive me, but I had to know what you really wanted." Hank fumbled with Connor's jeans, capturing his lips again. He realized it was getting dark, but he didn't care. Let himself be stranded here. He could die out here all alone and he wouldn't care, if that meant he got to be with Connor. "Back of my car," he gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment. He'd never done something so spontaneous with anyone, but then he'd lived in a different world, one that had existed before nuclear war on home turf, when Detroit was vibrant and alive. One with a future to look forward to, instead of a past that he so desperately missed.

They made it into the backseat after getting hung up on the back driver's side door. Hank humped Connor fully clothed against the side of the vehicle, twenty years of pent up energy threatening to spoil the moment, but Connor slipped from his grasp, only to pull Hank into the backseat with a broad smile plastered on those well-kissed lips. His legs were spread, his cheeks flushed, his body language inviting Hank to touch him more.

Hank made short work of pulling Connor's threadbare jacket off. His shirt only had a couple of buttons left, and his jeans seemed to slide off him like they'd been trying to escape for years. No underwear. Hank chuckled when he saw Connor's slit, glistening with want, and he wasted no fucks on asking why Connor had been built with a vagina. He didn't know and he didn't care. He dived in like a parched man at a desert oasis, lapping at Connor's slit until the boy was writhing like he was glitching out. He took Connor's tiny dick between his lips, massaging it with the tip of his tongue while he raised his hand, pressing his thick middle finger into Connor's hole. He forced himself to start slow, to stretch Connor out, but it was Connor who gasped "faster!", forcing Hank to fuck Connor with his finger. Connor orgasmed, squirting all over the car seat. Hank raised his head, fucking Connor's sloppy, wet hole with his finger until he was spent and undone.

"Hank!" Connor cried, his blush turned up to maximum. Hank knew he couldn't take much more. He reached for his own belt, tugging down his jeans and underwear as one. His dick sprang free, and Connor's eyes were alive with hunger.

He'd wanted this to be slow and loving, but he wasn't sure he could handle that kind of intimacy. Not when he had to say goodbye afterwards. There was no way he could stay. He needed to keep in touch with doctors to get his medication refilled. His old bones needed the creature comforts of society. He couldn't live in this ruined husk of a city. He was likely to die before the radiation got him, but that didn't mean it would take long.

Neither could he extract Connor from Detroit. They'd both be shot if Connor was discovered, and he no longer passed for human. The United States military had taken great pains to ensure nothing left the city, and no amount of bribes would convince the soldiers still stationed outside to turn a blind eye. Hank couldn't blame them. The political fallout from the dirty bomb still cast a shadow over U.S. politics, even after all this time. Security screenings at government buildings and airports still included temperature checks to identify androids. Every now and then, one would be identified living in some remote place, exposed by a coworker or former friend who'd spotted blue blood after a minor injury.

"Hank?" Connor's soft voice extracted the dagger from Hank's heart, and he realized his erection had floundered.

"I'm sorry." Hank licked his lips, which tasted like Connor's lubricant—sweet, with a hint of strawberry in there somewhere. "I was just thinkin' about the future."

"We're here _now_." Connor's hands cupped Hank's worn, weathered face, and he wondered what this android could possibly see in an old man like him. He was seventy-three years old, an ancient fool still chasing after a ghost. Except that ghost was right here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as the day Hank had met him, even as he fell into ruin. Hank could touch him, taste him, make love to him. He might come back again at some point. There was always the possibility that the government might consider Detroit enough of an android-free zone that they abandoned it, though he doubted he'd live to see that.

But Connor was right. They were here now, and if Hank didn't do something, he'd lose the one and only window to fulfill the ache that had gnawed at him for twenty years. He dipped down to kiss Connor, his arousal slowly building again. Connor wrapped his plastic fingers around Hank's cock and helped him along, his eyes lidding as he worked. He wanted those pretty pink lips around his dick, but he knew he'd never last, and he wanted to spend his load in Connor's hole.

As if Connor could read his mind, he slipped his mouth around Hank's thick cock, taking it to the root. Hank had to look away from the sight of that face—eyes closed, lips stretched around his girth like he barely fit—before he came prematurely down Connor's throat.

Connor withdrew, letting Hank's wet cock hang. Hank kicked off his jeans and boxers as Connor leaned back against the car door, spreading his legs. Hank eased his thighs up, angling his cock and impaling Connor with one stroke. He couldn't suppress the loud gasp he made as Connor fit around him like a glove. He leaned forward and kissed Connor as he started to thrust, knowing it would all be over too soon. Connor moaned into his mouth, and Hank pulled away to hear his high, sharp cries, that choirboy voice singing his pleasure like it was a hymn.

Hank had a prayer of his own as he neared the brink. "God, Connor!" It came out as a strangled plea as with one last thrust he tumbled over the edge, twitching involuntarily as he came deep inside, blowing a huge load that he'd been saving just in case. He pulled out and spread Connor's pink lips to admire his handiwork. His thick, white come leaked out onto the seat and Hank grinned like a dirty old man. He supposed he was, fucking a robot with the appearance of a man half his age.

He bit his lip, not prepared for the wave of sentimentality and sorrow that washed over him now that the act was over. He pulled Connor close, cradling him in his arms in the back seat.

Connor sat up after a while. "It's getting dark, Hank. Wildlife is starting to take over the city. You shouldn't remain here much longer." He pulled on his threadbare clothes, making himself presentable. Hank languished in his seat, his jeans and boxers still in the footwell where he'd kicked them off. He wanted a cigarette, despite not smoking in twenty years. It was better than wanting a drink, he supposed.

"What will you do, Connor?" Hank asked. "What will become of you?"

"My mission's complete," Connor replied. "You came back." He managed a wan smile. "In these conditions, I estimate I'll wander the city for another five years before I experience terminal failure."

"That's not enough time," Hank whispered. "I thought you'd have longer."

"Androids weren't built to last," Connor explained, "but then again, nothing is." He planted a kiss on Hank's chest, nuzzling the soft white hair above Hank's tattoo. He sat up, leaned over, and opened the car door.

"Wait." Hank held onto his arm. "Don't go, Connor."

"I want you to live. If you stay here, you'll die sooner than anticipated. I can't allow that to happen. Neither can I leave with you. If I am discovered, we will both be shot." Connor placed his hand on Hank's heart and retracted the skin fully. "I live here, with you. I'll always be with you. I'll—"

"I love you." Hank bit off the end of Connor's sentence, blurting out the words like they were his last. He felt vulnerable, naked, and scared as the look in Connor's eyes changed from warm to cold.

"I'm an android, Lieutenant. I don't see the world the same way humans do." Connor reiterated his point from earlier, and it pierced Hank like a blade through the heart, his next words turning the knife. "I can't reciprocate your feelings."

"Then what was—"

"It was what you needed. Closure. The end to your story. It's time for you to leave, now. Don't ruin it." Connor reached for the car door, and Hank didn't stop him this time. He watched, stunned, as Connor walked away into the snow. 

Hank kept his eyes on Connor until he was out of sight. The car was getting chilly, and Hank pulled his clothes on, feeling cold inside and out. So that was how it was. Connor didn't want him—had never wanted him, in fact. He'd been playing at empathy all those times, acting out a script CyberLife had installed in him.

Perhaps Markus and the other deviants hadn't been alive, after all. They'd been nothing more than machines gone awry, their code spiraling out of control. Wasn't that what Connor had been trying to tell him all along?

_"I can be whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant. Your partner… your buddy to drink with…_

_…Or just a machine, designed to accomplish a task."_

Hank drove to the checkpoint, downcast as he nodded to the soldiers stationed there. They shone their flashlights under his car, checking the trunk, the back seat, and under the hood as Hank stared straight ahead.

He wished he'd never come here. No closure would have been better than this. To know that he was nothing more than an object in a line of code, a man to be cherished and protected not because Connor willed it, but because CyberLife programmed it as a core directive was devastating in a way he couldn't describe. He'd hoped Connor was capable of love. He'd believed it was a possibility for twenty years.

The soldiers ushered Hank on his way after the temperature check, and he hit the open road, grateful to leave the corpse of the city he'd once called home in the rearview mirror. He'd never come here again.

It wasn't until he was almost home when a possibility dawned on him. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and leaned his head against the steering wheel, fighting a sob. He hated this sick hope that flared inside him, but his belief that Connor was alive and cared about him had been all that had sustained him for twenty years—the cornerstone of his life in the way God was for many others. He couldn't abandon that belief. He would not.

_"I wanted to protect you more than I wanted my own freedom."_

Connor had chased him away to save him. To protect him one last time. He couldn't prove it, of course, and he didn't have the balls to go back and ask—even if he had the kind of savings to pay another hefty bribe—but it was something. A glimmer of light in the darkness. He thought about the other signs Connor had given him. His kind words, before those last, frosty, final ones. The language their bodies had spoken, wordless, yet profound.

He could abandon all hope, and die a bitter old man, or he could cling to his faith that Connor was a living being, one who had loved him enough to chase him away in the name of saving his life.

He remembered how Connor had chosen to preserve Hank's life over advancing the investigation on the rooftop of Detroit Urban Farms. Recalled how he'd saved the Tracis, and Chloe, of how he'd kissed like he meant it. Of how he'd refused to deviate until Hank had tricked him into it. In spite of those last, cruel, final words, Hank chose to keep his faith.

Hank swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled back out into traffic, thinking about the lonely android wandering the streets of Detroit, the last android to deviate because he valued Hank's life above all else. He clicked on the radio, and a jaunty classic jam blared out loud and clear.

For Connor, he would cherish the life the android had sacrificed so much to preserve.


End file.
